


Finding Family: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

by PeculiarLeah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autistic Draco Malfoy, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Blind Character, Blind Draco Malfoy, Cerebral Palsy, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Chronically Ill Remus Lupin, Disability, Disabled Character, Disabled Draco Malfoy, Disabled Harry, Disabled Harry Potter, Epilepsy, Established Relationship, Gay Parents, Gay Sirius Black, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Nymphadora Tonks, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Metamorphmagus, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Pre-Hogwarts, Queer History, Queer Themes, Raising Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Draco Malfoy, Seizures, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Raise Harry Potter, Wheelchairs, Wolfsbane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeculiarLeah/pseuds/PeculiarLeah
Summary: The curse didn't just cause a scar, the damage it caused to Harry Potter's brain would define much of his life. He's disabled, a wheelchair user, and deals with frequent seizures. But, having been taken in on the night of his parent's murder, by his father's best friends, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black he grew up a happy and empowered disabled child. In their early 20's, the two men had no idea how to be parents, certainly not how to do so with the dangers and anxieties of being gay parents, particularly when one of you is a werewolf, but with the threat of Harry being raised by his mother's muggle sister, the two men rise to the occasion, becoming loving and supportive parents to Harry.This book will follow Harry from the night of his parent's murder, through his childhood, and into his Hogwarts years. I will explore both how Remus and Sirius would parent, and what his life would look like if the Killing Curse had caused further damage. I explore what living with various disabilities would look like in the Wizarding World, including the accessibility and ableism challenges of that world.Don't worry I'll still be updating my other fics too, just giving myself more work!
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 35
Kudos: 222





	1. The Boy Who Lived

**Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived**

The door was hanging off its hinges. The green front door that had always stood open to him, hung off its hinges, a terrible blast mark had stinged off most of the paint. Sirius Black pushed it open, not wanting to know what was inside. He found James first, lying spreadeagled on the rug in the hall. But someone had been there before him, someone who had covered James’s body with the knitted blanket that usually hung over the back of the sitting room sofa. He knew he should investigate, find out who was still in the house, who had left a still crying Harry upstairs and uncomforted, but he had to take a moment, he had to, for his best friend. To say goodbye. He pulled the blanket back revealing James’s body. His face looked struck, surprised. An expression of fright and anger was frozen on his handsome face. There was no blood, no anything, he was just, gone.

Whoever had covered James’s body had not closed his eyes. His glasses were askew, cracked along the lens, and Sirius took them from his best friend’s face, sliding them into his robes. His hazel eyes were already beginning to cloud. Sirius pressed his fingers to James’s eyelids, gently sliding them shut, and pressed his lips against James’s forehead.

“I’m so sorry Prongs” Sirius whispered into James’s hair. “I’m so sorry...” he kissed James’s forehead one more time, and stroked his hair gently, then pulled the blanket back over his body and stood, pulled his wand out, and began to climb the stairs.

The door to Lily and James’s bedroom was closed, but the door to Harry’s nursery had been blasted away. He could hear his godson’s deafening, screams. A scream of loneliness and abandonment Sirius was close to replicating. He entered the room at a run, then stopped abruptly. Severus Snape was sitting against the bars of Harry’s crib. Lily lay next to him, as dead as her husband downstairs. Anger swelled in Sirius’s chest when he realized Snape was still holding her hand. He hadn’t comforted Harry, hadn’t even covered his mother’s body so the baby didn’t have to see her. At least he’d had the decency to close her eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He spat, pointing his wand at Snape’s chest. 

“I could ask the same of you.” Snape sneered, standing and drawing his own wand in one fluid motion. “What made you decide to go over to his side, wanted the chance to fuck a few more werewolves?” Sirius felt sick, murderous, like he wanted to rip Snivellus limb from limb. But there was confusion too. What would have made Snape think he, of all people, had turned Dark?

“What are you talking about?” his voice was deep, not showing an ounce of fear, but steeped in rage.

“You turned traitor! Didn’t you. He knew. The Fidelius charm broke, and you- you-” Snape was livid, but Sirius cut him off,

“You weren’t even supposed to know where they were! You’re a fucking spy, kissing His feet because you were still in love with a woman who would never have you. What, did you stalk Dumbledore to get inside the enchantments? Turn them in, think he’d spare her and you could finally have her all to yourself?” Sirius taunted. But his heart wasn’t in it. No matter how creepy he found Snape personally, he knew who must have broken the Fidelius charm, and it was someone far less obvious than Severus Snape. 

“You were supposed to be their friend.” Snape hissed, his lip curling in a sneer. “I knew they never should have trusted you. Poor Lupin. He’ll be so lonely when you’re in Azkaban. Who will lick his wounds every month when you’re gone?”

“YOU IDIOT!” Sirius shrieked. “I’m telling you it wasn’t me! You were supposed to be a spy! You were supposed to tell us if He was planning to make a move!” Sparks flew out of his wand, he was losing control of his magic in a way he hadn’t since he was about twelve years old.

“And you were supposed to be their secret keeper!” He roared, causing Harry’s wails to reach a fever pitch.

“I’M TELLING YOU, I WASN’T THEIR SECRET KEEPER!” Sirius bellowed “It was Pettigrew! I’ve had the Lestranges on my tail for weeks! I couldn’t risk being their secret keeper!” Sirius roared. This seemed to stun Snape into silence,

“Pettigrew? Are you serious?” Snape looked aghast, confused. Ever so slightly disappointed. Sirius nodded emphatically but neither man lowered their wands,

“Does Dumbledore know?” Sirius shook his head,

“No, and Wormtail’s still out there, Snape I know he is! Someone has to find him! Someone has to make him pay!” Snape, who seemed stunned into complacency, lowered his wand. 

“I’ll go. I have... debts... that need to be paid.” he hissed, looking down at Lily’s body, “And you are right, Dumbledore must be told.” he said and stalked out of the room, his black robes billowing behind him. 

Once Snape was gone, Sirius rushed to Harry’s crib, trying not to look at Lily’s crumpled body. 

The baby boy- his godson- lay in his crib, screaming and screaming, as though the world were ending. Sirius didn’t mind, he felt like joining in himself. He wriggled feebly, arching his neck back, his arms flailing a bit, but Sirius noticed immediately that there was something very wrong with how the baby was moving. He saw too that there was blood in the crib and on the little boy’s face, trickling from a cut on his forehead in the shape of a bolt of lightning. 

“Oh Harry...” he murmured, lifting his godson into his arms. The baby was overheated and sweaty from crying, and smelled as though he needed his nappy changed. Sirius’s mind, which had been racing only a moment ago, seemed to calm now that the baby was in his arms. He knew what he had to do. He had to get Harry away from his parent’s corpses. He had to get Harry changed, and if he could manage it, fed, and then he had to get Harry to Rose cottage, to Moony, where they would be safe. 

He shifted Harry, who’s legs had gone worryingly rigid as soon as he had been picked up, so that his eyes were shielded from the sight of his mother’s body. He added this, as well as the fact that the child was no longer holding his own head up to the laundry list of disturbing signs that all seemed to point to some kind of curse damage. He hadn’t seen Harry since his first birthday at the end of July, but he knew that something was very, very wrong with the baby. He prayed that whatever it was was temporary- a product of the trauma of being left alone with his dead parents, not of whatever curses Voldemort had seen fit to throw at the child before trying to kill him. A terrible thought struck him. What if whatever was wrong was  _ caused _ by the killing curse? No one had ever survived it... that Harry was alive at all was a miracle. But no one had any idea what the consequences of such a miracle would be.

“It’s okay pup, Padfoot’s here, Padfoot’s got you,” he crooned, moving slowly from the nursery and into Lily and James’s bedroom. The room had been badly damaged by the blast, but the bed was intact and Sirius lay the still wailing Harry down while he went in search of a fresh nappy and romper suit, as well as something to clean the still bleeding cut on his forehead. Quickly moving to the bathroom across the hall, Sirius finds nappies and wipes under the sink and a clean romper hanging on the small clothes line that took up much of the bathtub. Without thinking, he also pulls an emerald green jumper of James’s from the line to wrap around Harry in lieu of a baby blanket. He brought the jumper to his face, breathing in the last of James’s sweet, musky, scent.

Harry was still sobbing when Sirius returned, his tiny fists still clenched and his eyes still screwed up and streaming with tears. Changing him was easy though- too easy- because the child didn’t kick or flail as a distressed toddler was supposed to. Sirius started humming ‘I Wanna be Sedated’ at half tempo- he didn’t know any lullabies but for some reason the Ramones song presented itself as a good option. Once Harry was clean and dry and in fresh pajamas, his screams gave way to hiccuping sobs. 

_ Okay milk next,  _ Sirius thought, his brain still functioning in an odd, mechanical sort way almost like the engine of his motorbike. Then he felt like screaming all over again when he remembered that Lily was still breastfeeding. Kissing Harry on the forehead he ran downstairs, trying not to look at James’s body and headed to the cottage's small kitchen. He rifled through the cupboards and moaned when he found no formula. Then, with a sudden surge of hope he ran to the cold cupboard. He let out a sob of grief mixed with relief. In the cold cupboard Lily had left several large containers of milk she had pumped over the last few days. Four were spelled to stay frozen, but the fifth was just cold, probably prepared for James to do Harry’s nighttime feeding. He looked around and found a grocery bag, which he hit with freezing charm and placed the frozen containers that held the last of Lily’s breastmilk in the bag. He then went to another cupboard and found several bottles. He threw three, along with some jars of baby food into a second grocery bag, and took another, along with the bag of cooled milk and began to make up a bottle. 

“Thank you Lily,” he whispered, tears still streaming down his face as he warmed the bottle with his wand. He swung the bags over his shoulder and took the bottle upstairs to the still screaming Harry. 

“Hey Harry,” he whispered, perching on the bed and cradling Harry, “see, mama’s left you some milk” but Harry was still too distraught to eat. He clenched his mouth shut while somehow still managing to let out squeaks and whimpers of displeasure. He started bouncing Harry again, and singing softly. He starts with Space Oddity, then moves on to Starman, Harry seemed to be beginning to calm down. Sirius remembers a Beatles song from a muggle lullaby and began to sing, rocking Harry slowly, almost whispering the lyrics.

“Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, smiles awake you when you rise, sleep little darling do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby” he croons again and again until Harry gives a final hiccuping sob and finally accepts the bottle.

“There you go sweet boy.” He sighed with relief as Harry finally started nursing. The relief was short lived, as he took only half the bottle before he spit out the nipple out and started crying again. 

“Okay sweet boy, let’s get you out of here.” Leaving Harry on the bed, Sirius hurries back into Harry’s nursery. He stops at Lily’s feet, then kneels, squeezing her cold, dead, hand. 

“I’ll keep him safe, Lils, I promise.” he presses a kiss onto her fingers, then goes to the cupboard to find a sheet with which to cover her body. 

“I’m so sorry Lily...” he whispers as he pulls the sheet over her. Forcing himself to stop crying, to turn mechanical again, Sirius stands and scans the room. He pulls the baby blanket from Harry’s cot, along with the large stuffed stag Remus had got him when he was born. He looked around and found Lily’s nappy bag next to the changing table, it was fully stocked and had an extension charm that Sirius was particularly grateful for now. He stocked it with more nappies and wipes, then gathered clothes, shoes, and toys enough to give Harry something familiar and tide them over until they could shop for replacements of the clothes and toys that had been blasted into the front garden. He forced down the sick feeling that came with the idea of going through the house and sorting out what to keep. There wasn’t much to gather, as the dressing table had been in the line of fire, but Sirius managed to find enough to last them several days. He was thankfully able to find Harry’s front carrier among the wreckage and finally returned to the bedroom. In the weeks and years that followed Sirius would never know how he had walked around the house, gathering necessities while two of his best friends lay dead on the floor and their son lay limp and screaming on their bed. He supposed it was just how people survived anything. One plus one plus one, surviving, moving forward from one moment to the next. Not thinking about the past or the future, just putting one foot in front of the other to stop the earth swallowing you whole. 

Harry was still crying but it was clear the baby was nearing exhaustion. The screams had become softer, broken by sobs and hiccups.

“Okay Harry, let’s get you outta here.” He added the bags of milk and baby food to the nappy bag and put a still crying and wriggling Harry into the baby carrier. In a last ditch effort to shield the child from seeing any more of his dead parents, he covered Harry in the baby blanket he had found on the side of the cot.

And so he walked, bag over his shoulder, past Lily’s body, down the stairs, forcing down sobs again as he passed James, and back through the destroyed front door. 

A giant of a man stood beside his discarded motor bike, he was near twice as tall as a normal man, and perhaps three times as broad, with a massive amount of shaggy black hair and beard.

“Hagrid?” Sirius asked, somewhat distrustfully. Across the road he could see a crowd of witches and wizards beginning to gather in the soft, early morning light. He made it about 3 in the morning he thought absently. That meant he must have spent over an hour in the house, and that the screaming baby against his chest had been alone with the body of his dead mother for perhaps four hours. The attack, according to Bathilda Bagshot, had taken place at approximately 10pm, and Snape had been at the house, and reported on Harry’s miraculous survival, perhaps a half hour later. Sirius himself had heard the news about half past 12, and had taken the bike, unsure if it would be safe or possible to apparate into Godric’s Hollow, and at top speed the ride from London had taken about an hour. Why was he so preoccupied with the time? He wondered, looking from Hagrid to the gathering crowd and back again. 

“What are you doing here Hagrid?” Sirius asked, putting his arm protectively around the still crying Harry.

“I’m supposed ter take ‘im ter Dumbledore. Dumbledore wants ter give ‘im ter Lily’s sister. ‘E says that’s safest.”

“SAFEST?!” Sirius shouted, “SAFEST?! Bullshit it’s safest! This from the man who left an infant for hours alone in a house with his dead parents? Who didn’t even take him to St. Mungos to see what that fucking curse did?” Hagrid was stunned, and Sirius took out his wand, ready to try and hex the half-giant out of his way if he had to. 

“Well you can tell him from me to back the fuck off my godson. Now get out of my way Hagrid, now!” 

“But Sirius, Dumbledore said...” 

“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT DUMBLEDORE SAID!” Sirius screamed, his words accompanied by renewed wails from Harry. Red sparks shot involuntarily from his wand again and his hands felt as though they were crackling with magic. 

“My best friend is dead in there. And he made me godfather- by law I can take Harry, and Dumbledore knows that. Now get out of my way.” his voice had become soft and dangerous, and slightly mad around the edges.

To his surprise, Hagrid stepped aside, and Sirius pushed past him and mounted the bike. Harry wailed as though his heart were breaking all over again as Sirius kicked off, not daring to look back down at the destroyed cottage below him.

As they put more distance between themselves and Godric’s Hollow flying south towards the cottage on the Devonshire coast where surely Remus would have heard of the impossible survival of the child, and the murder of his parents. Harry finally hiccuped himself to sleep as they flew over the twinkling city lights of Bristol, and Sirius finally let the waves of grief wash over him. The cold air burned his eyes, drying his tears against his cheeks as they fell. He began to smell salt on the air and dipped down below the clouds, they were nearing the coast. He dipped down and came into Rose Cottage’s front gardens. 

Remus ran out in his tartan dressing gown and slippers, stopping abruptly when he saw Harry strapped to Sirius’s chest.

“Sirius?” he asked, the questions hanging in the air like a fog.

“Dead.” his voice cracked. “Both dead.”

“And Harry?”

“I have him. They want to take him to Lily’s sister. But I can’t... I won’t... they left him to us, by making me godfather, they knew how you- they believed in us Moony. They trusted him with us. I just couldn’t...” Remus’s face was pinched, unreadable.

“And he’s alright? He’s not hurt?” Sirius jerked his head slightly as though he couldn’t decide whether to shake it or not. 

“I don’t... I don’t know... I think so... I think he’s okay... but I don’t know. Something feels... off...” he pushed his nagging doubts aside. If Harry didn’t perk up and start moving normally by tomorrow they would take him to St. Mungo’s. For now, he wanted Harry within his sights, inside the protective enchantments they had placed on the cottage.

Now that they were on the ground, Harry had become fussy once again. 

“Let’s just get him inside Remus, try and get some sleep. He’s been crying for hours, he’s got to be exhausted.” Remus nodded, ushering Sirius into the cozy cottage. It was warm inside, with a crackling fire in the hearth and warming spells embedded in each stone and bit of thatch, Sirius hadn’t realized how cold it had been outside and hurried in, suddenly afraid of how cold the tiny boy strapped to his chest must be.

“Oh Merlin he must be freezing!” he choked out, rushing into the sitting room and dropping down by the fire. Remus pointed his wand at the smoldering logs and they flared into life again, warm and crackling.

“Here, sit in front of it and I’ll get a blanket.” Remus went to a threadbare, brown tartan armchair and grabbed a heavy wool blanket. He draped it over Sirius’s shoulders and Sirius wrapped both ends around Harry like a cloak. 

“Make sure his mouth and nose are clear,” Sirius nodded, trying to get the fussing toddler to remove his streaming nose from the lapel of his leather jacket. Remus cupped each of the child’s cheeks, feeling his temperature.

“He’s freezing, so are you. But I don’t know how much pepper-up potion I could give him. It’s dosed by weight. He took one of Harry’s tiny little fists and pinched the skin lightly.

“He’s dehydrated, how long has he been crying?” Sirius shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Since I got there. Probably hours.” Remus had needed to develop a good understanding of basic healing in order to manage his own condition, and he was grateful for that now. Harry looked dreadful. His lips were dry, his skin pale, and his face was covered in tears and snot. His cheeks and eyelids were flushed from cold and covered with dozens of bright red dots of petechiae from the hours he’d spent crying. 

“I have a hydration potion. But it’s dosed by weight too. I’m sure it would be safe to give him a drop or two though. The recipe mentions it can be used for children with a sickness bug. I’ll see if I can figure out how much to give him.” He pointed his wand first at the bookcase, and then at the downstairs loo. A book flew from the shelf and a bottle flew from the loo and Remus caught both. He thumbed through the book and seemed to find what he wanted. 

“You can give him three drops, here,” he said, handing the little bottle of hydration solution to Sirius. Sirius took up a dropperful and dropped three small drops just inside the corner of the baby’s mouth. As Sirius was occupied with the hydration solution, Remus had summoned a bottle of dittany, and placed a few drops on a flannel, wiping it across the scar on Harry’s forehead, within several seconds the bleeding stopped and the scar now looked several days old, red and swollen, but no longer bleeding. Remus sighed and sat back on his heels, grimacing as he looked up at his partner, his eyes hurt and angry. 

“What could you possibly be thinking, Sirius? Bringing him here? We can’t raise a child. It’s not safe!” he cried. “I’m not safe!” he added, pointing to himself bitterly, angy tears falling down his cheeks.

“Listen to me Remus. You are safe! The Wolfsbane is working, it has for months! You’re healthier than you’ve been in years.” Sirius put his arms on his lover’s shoulders, but Remus brushed them away.

“Listen Moony. I love you. I will make you safe. We’ll keep him safe! Together! We’ve got to! He doesn’t have anyone left but us, and Dumbledore, Dumbledore is going to be fighting us tooth and nail to give him over to Lily’s sister. But we can’t do that to him Remus, we can’t! I won’t abandon him, and certainly not to her. We’ll figure something out, we’ve got to. We’ve got nearly two weeks to figure something out! The next full moon isn’t until the 11th Remus.” 

Part of Remus knew this fight was useless. James and he had had it plenty of times and he had still ended up with legal guardianship. And Harry was  _ here _ , perfect and alive, cold and bundled against his lover’s chest as though he were  _ really  _ theirs. And he was tiny and vulnerable, and smelling of milk, and James, and Lily, and baby, and  _ ours, _ and he knew that as soon as he held the child he would give up on arguing. That he would fall to pieces and never let Harry go. 

He’d dreamed of... well, not of  _ this _ , not outside nightmares at least... but he’d dreamed of a little black haired baby that looked like him and Sirius rolled into one, who would listen to him read stories and snuggle up between them on the sofa and give him the best excuses as to why they should have hot chocolate instead of supper. He’d even, in his more vulnerable moments, told Sirius how much he wished he could father a child. He’d known it was impossible- lycanthropy was usually accompanied by sterility, and as a werewolf it was illegal for him to adopt. Against his better judgement he reached out and stroked Harry’s baby soft black hair, which had begun to grow every which way, just like James’ had. Harry whimpered, smashing his face into Sirius’s leather jacket. He came closer, rubbing circles into Harry’s back, and letting Sirius wrap his arms around him until Harry was nearly squashed between them.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll do it. For Prongs,” and kissed Harry’s hair, smelling the perfect, soft, baby scent of him and knowing he would never,  _ ever,  _ not in a million million years, let him go. 

He felt Sirius’s lips brushing his own hair and looked up. Sirius looked different somehow. Older, more mature. As though all the goofy irresponsibilities of him had left the world with Prongs that night. 

“We haven’t even got any milk for him,” Remus murmured. Sirius gave a sad smile and looked pointedly at the nappy bag he’d left on the floor.

“I grabbed some things... nappies, fresh clothes... Lily... she was still nursing, she...” his voice broke. 

Remus knelt down, and opened the bag. When he saw the bags of frozen milk, he let out a gasping sob, his hand coming involuntarily to his mouth.

“Lily...” 

“I know.” he felt Sirius’s hand running through his hair. “I could hardly believe it when I found it. It’s like she’s still taking care of him. Like she planned for what he would need if...” Remus wiped his eyes.

“She probably did... she... she would have wanted him... wanted him warm... and fed... if... if...” the tears were flowing freely now. “Is it true? That Peter?” Sirius nodded.

“It’s my fault. I found out my cousin Bella had been tailing me since- well- probably since Regulus’s funeral now that I think about it. I suggested to James that Peter would be a safer choice. No one would ever suspect soft, stupid, Peter Pettigrew.” he spit out his former friend’s name like a curse.

“We don’t know he... he could have been imperiused.” Sirius shook his head.

“No, you have to want to divulge the secret. Imperius or torture wouldn’t be able to break the fidelius charm.” Remus grimaced. He’d known that, of course, but it didn’t make accepting the betrayal any easier. 

Harry was growing fussy again, and the two men were almost grateful for the distraction.

“I made up a bottle earlier, it should be in there, I’ll go heat it up.” Remus nodded,

“Here, give him to me, I’ll make up a bed for him.” he lifted Harry from the carrier, and gave Sirius an extremely worried look when Harry struggled to hold his head up and didn’t kick his legs.

“Sirius?” 

“I’m sure he’s just tired.” Sirius reassured him but Remus furrowed his brows, concern growing in his tired face.

“Okay. But if he’s still like this after he’s slept we need to take him to St. Mungo’s, yeah?” Sirius nodded and left for the kitchen to run the bottle under warm water to heat it up.

Remus sat heavily on the sofa, holding Harry close to his chest, and pointed his wand at a nearby footstool and transfigured it into a moses basket, complete with soft bedding. Harry was still a little fussy, but seemed calmer, snuggled against Remus’s tartan dressing gown. His hips and knees were aching from lack of sleep and his neck was stiff, but the pain seemed to ease a little with Harry in his arms. Harry’s body too seemed to calm against him, relaxing into the warmth and safety of being surrounded by familiar faces. A moment later, Sirius slid in next to him on the sofa, he leant against Remus’s shoulder and offered him the bottle.

“Hey Harry, are you thirsty?” he crooned, Harry screwed up his face and stared crying again. Sirius reached over and rubbed the baby’s tummy,

“Hush now, it’s okay pup, it’s okay.” Harry calmed down a little and accepted the bottle.

“He’s probably swallowed a lot of air from crying.” Remus said, thinking aloud. Sirius nodded and continued to rub Harry’s belly. He finally took the bottle but didn’t drink much before he spit the bottle out and returned to his sleepy fussing. After a nappy change and fresh romper, his fussing subsided further to hiccups and whimpers.

“Let’s try to get some sleep. He has to be exhausted, I’m sure he’ll fall asleep soon. And you need your rest, I’m sure you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep.” Remus nodded.

“Yeah. Must be almost 5 in the morning.” Sirius put his hand on the small of Remus’s back, ostensibly as a comforting gesture, but just as much to support him as he stood. Remus’ s mobility and strength had been improving since he was on Wolfsbane, but there was still some residual weakness. His healers said it might be many more months before he fully stabilized into what his health would continue to be on Wolfsbane. And the medication didn’t get rid of anything, there would always be the pre- and post-moon fevers, nausea, joint swelling, and pain, even if Remus was no longer scratching and biting himself to a pulp. The Wolfsbane did seem to ease these symptoms too, it certainly had improved the arthritic, swollen, nature of Remus’s joints, allowing him less pain, and almost no pain during the middle two weeks of the lunar cycle. 

Remus accepted the touch gratefully, and allowed Sirius to keep his hand on his waist, steading him and helping him take the extra weight of sleeping baby. 

“It doesn’t feel real, that they’re gone.” He whispered, Sirius nodded, taking more of his weight as they began to climb the stairs.

“Yeah, it doesn’t for me either. Feels like a fucking nightmare.” 

“I know.” Remus agreed, holding the sleeping Harry closer to him. 

They collapsed into the bed, not bothering to wash up. Sirius stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and Remus set Harry on the bed before shucking off his slippers and letting his dressing gown fall to the floor. He summoned the moses basket, and now nearly empty bottle of milk from downstairs and set it up next to his side of the bed. He laid Harry down and the boy thankfully continued to sleep as he tucked him in. Sirius gave a half smile, pointing his own wand at the door. The small stuffed stag came flying through the window and Remus caught it, smiling fondly at Sirius, tucking it in next to the small boy. 

The two men eased themselves into bed, their bodies fitting together easily, both needing the other’s touch desperately. Remus sighed, his body relaxing, and laid his head on Sirius’s shoulder. He pointed his wand lazily at the door again, and a few moments later a two mugs and a pot of tea floated through the door. The teapot poured steaming ginger tea into the mugs, and each sat themselves on their respective bedside tables before floating lazily back to the kitchen. 

“So, do you have any ideas?” Remus asked, running his hand through his hair, and leaning against Sirius,

“A few. None of them are great, and most involve telling more people about your condition. But if it’s what’s best for Harry...” Remus nodded and indicated that Sirius should go on, taking a few sips of his tea, before setting the mug on the bedside table. 

“The Prewett’s sister Molly lives in Ottery St. Catchpole. She’s a lovely woman, I met her at Gideon and Fabian’s funeral. She’s already got seven kids... I’m sure one more for a night or two a month wouldn’t be too much trouble.” Sirius said, giving Remus a sad smile. Remus laughed slightly, a harsh and hopeless sound, but nodded.

“Okay. We’ll try it, for now at least. I’ll send an owl... But if it doesn’t work Sirius- I won’t put him in danger.” Sirius nodded, snuggling into Remus’s shoulder and putting his arms around him, glancing past Remus to Harry, asleep in the moses basket which now stood on transfigured legs, rocking Harry gently back and forth on waves of magic.

“You won’t put him in danger. You couldn’t, not ever, I promise.” he murmured, kissing Remus’s chin sloppily, snuggling closer, and they were asleep within moments.


	2. Something Isn't Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we start to get closer to some answers, and Sirius and Remus are brought to their wit's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I'm sorry this one is shorter, I'm in the PNW where we are dealing with some wildfire smoke and I've been struggling for the past week with my asthma, so I haven't quite finished what I hoped would be the second half of this chapter. I'm going to release that soon as chapter 3.   
> In any case, I want to ask any of my readers who have CP (or are wheelchair users), blindness, or epilepsy to comment with anything they feel needs to be changed or improved as the only disability I will be portraying that I experience myself is autism, and generally experiencing chronic illness. I want to make this an explicitly anti-ableist, and anti-oppression universe. I also want to put out the same request to trans/genderfluid/genderqueer readers. First I want to say I support you, and I am writing this fic partially because I love the diversity of the HP fandom community and abhor the violent rhetoric JKR has continued to espouse against the trans community. It is unacceptable, and one of the ways I have decided to fight it is to write diverse fanfiction, which I know many trans fans have requested. Right now I know that Tonks and Luna will be nonbinary and genderqueer respectively. As this is not my experience, so I really want to take your views and opinions on how you should be represented into account.

It was four o’clock the next afternoon. The next afternoon? Or did it count as the same day if you haven’t slept in over 36 hours because your best friends had been murdered and you had made the rash decision to take in their infant son who had been doing his best to cry as long and as loud as possible for over twelve hours? Neither Sirius nor Remus knew for sure. 

The two men hadn’t even had time to properly think about grieving for Lily and James. Someone had to hold Harry constantly, there were letters to send to the Potter’s friends and family, as well as to Gringotts and the Ministry. There were plans to make for the funeral, and for what to do with the Potter’s possessions. 

Then there had been a call through the fire with Albus Dumbledore who had once again tried to convince them of how vital it was for Harry to live with his Aunt Petunia, and the unexpected and unpleasant visitation of Barty Crouch who had threatened to arrest Sirius. The vengeance driven man had only been convinced otherwise when Severus Snape stepped out of the fire with news from Dumbledore that Peter Pettigrew had just murdered a dozen muggles in a fit of anger over his master’s downfall. With Crouch still unconvinced, Snape had provided a vial of Veritaserum, which had led to an hour of Sirius sobbing and spilling all his darkest secrets, but in the end had convinced Crouch of his innocence. 

Then there had been everything to do with Harry, neither man had ever cared for a baby for this long, let alone a baby who was in such a state of traumatised shock. Inevitably, there were more than a few arguments over whether or not it was safe to take him to St. Mungos for a check-up, if such a check-up was needed, and if it was needed- safe or not- how long they could wait. This wasn’t to mention the further arguments over what to do during Remus’s transformations, and worried discussions over what they would do if something  _ was  _ really wrong with Harry, or if Dumbledore or the Ministry tried to take him away, or a dozen other concerns the two men managed to dredge up between them. 

And all of this was accompanied by Harry’s crying, which fluctuated between shrieking sobbs and pitiful whimpers, but never stopped for long. The boy was absolutely inconsolable. He had refused to eat solid food, and had barely taken half a bottle throughout the day. He’d slept for a couple hours that morning, but they hadn’t managed to get him to sleep since, and so hadn’t managed to get any sleep themselves. More red spots covered his cheeks as his screams caused more blood vessels to burst. Every few hours the pressure of his screaming would cause the curse mark on his forehead to re-open and bleed freely for several minutes before scabbing over again. Nothing seemed to help. Not even Essence of Dittany, which was usually reserved for much larger wounds than the little lightning bolt shaped cut could keep the cut closed for more than a few hours at a time. Every two hours he was given a few drops of hydration solution, but he was crying so much, and drinking so little, that Remus could tell he still wasn’t getting the hydration he needed. It was starting to look like a trip to St. Mungo’s was inevitable. 

Harry was lethargic, yet remained inconsolable, listening to his screams and being able to do nothing about it was beginning to break them. The lack of sleep didn’t help matters.

And so, by four that afternoon the two men found themselves exhausted and at their wits end, passing a screaming Harry between them every few minutes in a hope to get him to sleep, or eat, or just stop crying. Nothing seemed to work, and both men were near tears themselves. Remus was holding him, standing near the warm fire and rocking the little boy, who screamed and screamed despite Remus’s every effort at comforting him. A bottle lay discarded on the coffee table, along with several different attempts at baby food. They’d tried scrambled eggs, bits of buttered toast, a bit of sweet porridge, even some mashed carrot- something Remus remembered Lily feeding the boy quite easily only a few weeks before. He looked across the room at Sirius, his eyes wide and desperate, bouncing up and down on his toes as he rocked Harry against his chest while the boy cried and cried. But the boy’s body wasn’t moving like it should, he wasn’t kicking or hitting or thrashing or doing any of the things a distraught toddler was supposed to do. 

“I’m telling you Sirius, Something isn’t right! I saw him a week ago and he was walking and talking. The way he’s moving is all wrong! Something is  _ really  _ wrong with him Sirius! And he isn’t feeding!” Remus cried desperately, bouncing and rocking Harry in a desperate attempt to get him to stop crying. 

“If I could just get you to eat!” he moaned, pressing Harry into his jumper as the boy screamed, his arms jerking up and his legs... his legs... Sirius thought...  _ I know Remus, he’s not kicking, he’s all, floppy... you’re right... something’s wrong, really wrong.... I know it... I already knew it...  _ Remus was rocking Harry again, pressing kisses over the scar on the boy’s forehead as he whispered again and again into Harry’s dark hair, 

“Please eat sweet boy... if I could just get you to eat... please little one... please just eat!” Remus was sobbing now, fat tears running down his cheeks. Sirius started crying himself even as he reached out to brush the tears from his lover’s eyes.

“I know. I know.” he said, wrapping himself around Remus and little Harry. The boy seemed comforted surrounded by the warmth of the two men. 

“You’re right.” he said, cradling Remus’s cheeks in his hands. “But listen, right now, we all need sleep. You need sleep. We can take him to St. Mungos in the morning if it’s safe. Now, go and rest. I’ll try to get him down.” Remus nodded, exhausted, and let Sirius take Harry from him. He shuffled upstairs to their bedroom leaning heavily on the banister for support and took a headache potion.

_ What if I’m not up for this? _ He asked himself. W _ hat if I’m too sick to do this? What if my body won’t let me?  _ He had regained some strength over the last six months of treatment with Wolfsbane, but he was still bedbound two or three days a month at least, and his condition caused weakness, pain, and fatigue on and off throughout the month. There would be days where he wouldn’t have the energy to chase after a child, days where he might not be able to lift the baby, especially as he got bigger throughout toddlerhood. There had already been one or two particularly bad pain days he’d spent at the Potter’s where Harry had cried because ‘Uncle Moony’ couldn’t pick him up. He remembered lying on their sofa, having been invited over when Sirius had been sent on a mission. He’d tried to refuse, tried to tell Lily that he could take care of himself, but James had scoffed, and Lily had insisted, so here he was, on the Potter’s sofa waiting out the hours before the full moon. He had been feverish, his fingers were swollen, his wrists and shoulders aching, too dizzy to stand independently. A ten month old Harry had crawled up to the sofa and tried to hand Remus some little colored blocks. Remus had gritted his teeth, and tried to take the toys, tried to play, but he was struggling to keep down his latest dose of Wolfsbane and felt close to passing out. Harry had cried because Remus couldn’t pick him up- his hands were too clumsy and swollen- and Remus had cried from exhaustion and frustration. In the end, Lily had taken Harry into the nursery and James had half carried him into the small downstairs guest room which was barricaded with every protective charm James knew and sat with him until the moon rose, giving him little sips of water every few minutes. It turned out to be one of the last full moons he spent with Prongs. His fever had spiked dangerously high as the moon rose, so the transformation had hit him with both pain and relief. They’d spent the night curled up together on the floor, Prongs’ enormous form was both comforting and somewhat menacing, still not entirely used to the relaxed and sleepy wolf created by the Wolfsbane potion. 

What would they do for the week or so a month where he would not be able to parent? As he thought, a little voice that sounded suspiciously like James Potter answered.  _ Sirius Black has enough excess energy to parent a quidditch team. You’ll be just fine Moony. _ He smiled to himself, knowing that at least, was true. He even dared to think about how much holding Harry had made his heart swell, as he drifted off to sleep, finally allowing his body the rest it had always needed so very much of. 

Downstairs, Sirius stopped trying to offer a bottle to the crying boy, and laid Harry in the moses basket Remus had transfigured by the fire while the boy continued screaming, his tiny fists clenched. Transforming into Padfoot, Sirius curled up with his nose against Harry’s, nuzzling against him and licking the tears from his cheeks until the boy finally stopped crying. He hiccuped a few times and Padfoot licked his face, relief flooding through him as Harry’s eyes finally closed. He lay his head across the baby’s chest and let himself relax a little. Once Harry had been asleep for several minutes Sirius transformed back into his human form and lay down on the hearthrug next to his godson, his hand resting protectively over the baby’s stomach.

Sirius woke to odd little choking gasps and the little body of his godson jerking against his hand. He was awake in an instant. Harry’s little body was shaking all over, his arms and legs were stiff, sticking straight out, then his limbs jerked towards his body, before straightening again and shaking terribly. He was dribbling, almost foaming at the mouth, and his curse mark had reopened and was bleeding freely. 

_ Seizure _ , Sirius thought panicking.  _ Fuck he’s having a seizure. Fuck!  _ Desperately he tried to remember anything you were supposed to do during a seizure but he couldn’t. Remus had had them a few times around full moons, but that had been when he was very small, well before Sirius knew him, so he’d never learned what to do. 

“Remus! Remus! Help! Come quickly! Oh my god help! Remus!”

Remus woke with a start, wiping sweat from his forehead and trying to figure out what had woke him.

“Remus! Remus! Help! Come quickly! Oh my god help! Remus!” Sirius was shouting from downstairs his voice high with panic. His eyes flew open and he rolled from the bed, still half asleep, his body acting on impulse. He padded down the stairs to find out what was going on, blearily registering Sirius hunched over Harry’s bed. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly awake and sharp.

“He’s having a seizure! We have to get him to St. Mungos! Now!” Remus bolted down the last few steps, and was at their side in a moment. Harry was still jerking and twitching, his face gray and his lips slightly blue. 

“Get our shoes and cloaks from the foyer. We need to go now.” Remus commanded. He moved Harry gently onto his side. Conjuring a handkerchief he wiped Harry’s mouth and nose to try and clear his airways, and rubbed his back gently in a vain attempt to ease his breathing. Sirius was back in a moment, shoving cloak and shoes at Remus who dawned them at speed, not even bothering to tie his laces. He scooped Harry into his arms, wrapped in a blanket as the little boy’s body jerked against him.

“Let’s go.” Sirius nodded, his hand on Remus’s back as they stood and made for the fireplace.


	3. St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his seizure Harry is admitted to St. Mungo's and Remus and Sirius are thrown into the world of parenting a sick baby, slowly they start the process of finding out how Lord Voldemort's curse has effected Harry.

They stumbled out of the fireplace, shaking ash from themselves and trying to make sure none got in Harry’s face. The Entrance Hall of St. Mungo’s Hospital was still set up for wartime triage. Mediwitches and wizards in their khaki uniforms and white arm bands mixed with the bright green robes and black cravats of the St. Mungo’s Healers. Muggles were being hastily rushed into an adjoining room where they could be treated without being terrified out of their wits by the constant use of magic. Witches and wizards, even some wizarding children with terrible cuts and burns and curse marks lay on stretchers in neat rows waiting to be taken to the treatment rooms while others who could walk were being led off to the less critical wards to wait for treatment. 

Remus flagged down a Healer he thought he recognized from one of his own St. Mungo’s trips and pulled the man over.

“My godson’s just had a seizure. His name’s Harry Potter... he survived an attack last night-” Remus explained, but the Healer seemed to already know the story and immediately took Harry and laid him on a child sized stretcher, then called over his shoulder, 

“Get Healer Ashford from Paediatric Spell Damage down here! Now!!” a Junior Healer turned and cast an enormous St. Bernard patronus which ran upstairs at speed to relay the message, and the Healer refocused on Harry, who was now limp and unconscious. He waved his wand over the boy, casting several diagnostic spells over the boy.

“ _ Anapneo” _ he muttered, pointing his wand at Harry’s chest. Almost immediately Harry’s breathing eased and color began to return to his cheeks. Remus and Sirius breathed a mutual sigh of relief as his cheeks changed from grey to pink.

“How old is he?” the Healer- whose name-tag read “Healer Dippet” - asked, never taking his attention off Harry. 

“Fifteen months, born July 31, last year.”

“Has he been running a fever at all?” Sirius shook his head.

“No. But he’s not been moving the way he used to, or feeding well since the attack. And he’s been very agitated. I don’t think he’s slept more than a few hours, and he’s been crying a lot.” Remus explained. 

“Have you managed to get any fluids into him at all?” the Healer asked, pinching the skin on Harry’s hand to test for dehydration. The skin still stood up a bit, but not as badly as when Sirius had first brought Harry home. 

“A little. Some milk, and we had a hydration solution in the house so we’ve given him a little of that.” Healer Dippet nodded,

“You did well, he’s still slightly dehydrated, but it could have been much worse. Do you know when his last full meal was?” he asked, as he began checking Harry’s reflexes quickly. His limbs jerked with extreme veracity but that didn’t seem to reassure the healer, in fact he only looked more concerned. 

“I’m not sure. We haven’t been able to get him to eat solid food since we’ve had him, which was about midnight of November 1st, which was only a couple of hours after the attack. They think the attack was around 10pm on Halloween night, so it could have been a few hours before that.” Harry’s eyes had opened again and he was blinking slowly, as though he didn’t know where he was, and soon he became fussy again. Healer Dippet continued his examination, checking reflexes and vitals and casting spells. He pointed his wand at Harry’s forehead and with a soft  _ tergio _ , siphoned away the blood that had seeped from the still open curse mark.

“Is it true that that cut was caused by a rebounding killing curse?” Healer Dippet asked, “We heard the rumors but I didn’t know how much to believe. I mean it shouldn't even be possible...”

“It’s true. We tried everything, even Dittany, but we haven’t managed to get that cut to close for more than a couple hours. Every time he cries too hard it opens back up” Sirius explained, his voice still panicked. Just then, a woman in healer’s robes, wearing a name tag which read “Healer Ashford” hurried over.

“What have we got here Dippet?” She asked, peering down at Harry’s little body.

“Harry Potter, Healer Ashford. The little one who survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s killing curse.” Healer Ashford scowled up at Healer Dippet impatiently.

“Yes, well that’s all well and good, but what is the presentation?”

“Fifteen month old male, he’s just had a grand mal seizure. Non-febrile. It was ending just as his guardians brought him in - can’t have lasted more than five minutes. The guardians have reported continuous bleeding from the curse wound, extreme agitation, insomnia, poor feeding, dehydration, and some concerning muscular difficulties. He’s also showing symptoms of regression consistent with trauma,” she nodded curtly,

“Alright, move him into Exam Room Two, I’ll see him in there,” she said, turning on her heel and walking away quickly. Healer Dippet smiled at the two men, somewhat apologetically. 

“She’s not usually so brusk, but she’s the best. If my little one needed looking after, I’d want it to be her doing it. Now, let’s get this lad seen to.” he said, smiling kindly and rubbing Harry’s tummy. The baby’s breathing had continued to ease, but he had yet to open his eyes again. 

He pushed Harry’s little cot through the door and ushered the two men through. Healer Ashford was preparing several interesting silver instruments for various tests and beckoned Healer Dippet to bring Harry over, he did so, then took out a roll of parchment, tapped it once with his wand and handed it over. 

“Alright, 15 months, no history of seizures, likely related to the curse damage, possible damage to the brain- which of you is the legal guardian?” she asked looking up at the two men. They looked at each other worriedly.

“Legally we both are. But nothing’s been finalized yet, we’ve barely had Harry for a day. We were close friends with James Potter at school. I’m Sirius Black and he’s Remus Lupin,” Sirius explained, pointing to each in turn, feeling rather like he was being told off, “they wanted him to have two guardians, just in case, since all of us saw combat... we’re uh roommates, best friends since Hogwarts...” She gave them a hard, penetrating look, rather reminiscent of Professor McGonagall’s but then focused on Harry again. She waved her wand over him in several complicated patterns, listened to his heart and lungs, then flicked the bottom of one tiny foot with a finger, causing Harry to gasp. 

“He’s picking back up fairly well, but I’d like to get him some oxygen and fluids, then bring him up to Paediatric Spell Damage for further testing to find the cause of the seizure, and to get him started on a regime of anticonvulsant potions. I also want other healer’s from neurology to look at him, his reflexes are all over the place. Dippet, will you set up an oxygen tent while I set up fluids?” Healer Dippet nodded and brought over one of the strange, silver instruments, which looked rather like a box with a small pair of fireplace bellows attached to it, and several intricately carved silver dials. He then pulled from a cupboard a cloth which looked for all the world like an invisibility cloak and set it up on a stand above Harry’s cot. He prodded the machine with his wand and the bellows started pumping. Harry’s breathing began to ease further and his little body seemed to relax, although he hadn’t yet fully regained consciousness.

“This machine increases the oxygen concentration around the bed so Harry can breathe a little easier. The tent is porous so you can reach in to touch him, and it will move with him so you can pick him up. Based on the testing spells we’ve already done, he shouldn’t need it for very long. He just needs a little extra help.” Dippet said with a reassuring smile. 

“Would you check his airways and swallow reflex?” Healer Ashford asked from the station where she was preparing a set of potions. “I don’t want to give intravenous fluids unless I have to.” Dippet cast another diagnostic spell and nodded, seeming satisfied.

“His airways are stable, but his swallowing is a bit diminished.” Healer Ashford nodded, preparing a small syringe of potion. 

“We’ll give him an injection then. This has a light sedative which should help stabilize his brain activity after the seizure, and another dose of hydration solution.” she indicated to the two men and said, “one of you can hold him while I give him this if you like, it will help keep him calm.” Remus scooped Harry into his arms, and the veil of the oxygen tent followed him, fluttering lightly around him. Now that she was sure the little boy was stable, Healer Ashford had softened slightly. She cleaned Harry’s leg, and pinched a bit of his chubby thigh, and slid the needle in. Harry jerked and whimpered a bit, but the needle was imbibed with a numbing solution, so it wasn’t painful. Harry relaxed into Remus’s arms, his muscles relaxing as he began to drift off. 

“There. All done. We’ll have an orderly bring him up to the ward now, I’ll have Healer Dippet show you to the parent’s waiting area, the secretary will bring you some forms to fill out.” She tapped a clipboard with her wand and duplicated her notes, handing the rolls of parchment to Healer Dippet.

“Give a copy of this to the secretary to add to his file, then come join me on the ward.” She handed him the file and excused herself. 

“Is Harry going to be okay?” Sirius asked, turning sharply on Healer Dippet, as soon as Ashford had left the room. Healer Dippet’s face was completely unreadable.

“All I can say is that right now we’re confident that we can get him stabilized, and that there are many different potion protocols that can treat and prevent seizures, should they turn out to be recurring. It is more than likely we will find one that works.” Sirius looked like he was about to implode, and Remus wished more than anything that he could just comfort him. Just give him a hug, could kiss him, but here it was impossible. Sure, things weren’t as bad as they were for the poor muggles, but he had no idea what would happen if he showed any affection. Surely the Ministry would redouble their efforts to choose where Harry spent his childhood. They couldn’t risk that. As Healer Dippet explained the different potions they would try on Harry, a knock came on the door and a young man in white orderly’s robes poked his blonde head in,

“Hello, come to take the little tyke up to the ward. Is he really Harry Potter?” Healer Dippet nodded,

“And don’t you dare go spreading it around. If anyone from the Prophet shows up Ashford and I will have your neck, and your job. Mark my words.” Dippet looked rather terrifying. The young healer looked taken aback,

“No sir, I wouldn't never. I was just curious is all. Is he ready to go up?” 

“Yes, bring him to Healer Ashford directly, I’ll follow shortly as soon as I get the guardians settled. Thank you.” It took everything he had for Remus to put Harry back in the little cot. His big green eyes were fluttering as he began to wake, 

“We’ll be right here little man, promise.” Remus whispered, rubbing Harry’s chubby little cheek gently with the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah, promise.” Sirius added, his voice thick with tears as the young orderly pushed Harry into the hallway. 

Remus wished with all his heart that he could put his arm around Sirius, wished he could comfort him, to get that same comfort in return. But they couldn’t risk it. So he just watched as his godson was wheeled out of the room. He looked very, very small. 

“He’ll be alright” Healer Dippet reassured, breaking the long silence. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll get you checked in, get all of Harry’s paperwork squared away, then you can wait upstairs until we have more information and Harry’s condition is more stable.” The walk to the Paediatrics office was silent. Remus had spent enough time on this ward as a child that he could have walked it in his sleep.

He didn’t have many memories of when he was hospitalized after being bitten, he hadn’t even been five years old after all. His memories of the attack were disjointed, they had always been most vivid in his nightmares. Sometimes his nightmares of Greyback mixed with memories of a hospital, of pain, and bandages, and his first transformation. It had been six months of transformations in a cold padded room in the St. Mungo’s basement, knocking his tiny wolf body into a door painted in silver, before he was well enough to go home. His mother, Hope, was a muggle, and had been getting Remus excited about going to the local muggle kindergarten. But when his fifth birthday came and went with a party on the children’s ward that Remus wasn’t even well enough to enjoy, there was no more talk of kindergarten, no more excitement about one day going to Hogwarts. After he got home there was no excitement either, just potions for headaches, and ones for fevers, ones for nausea, and ones for the tissue damage, and ointments for sore muscles, and ones for the scars. There were special diets to try and combat the digestive distress, and strange cures to try and force the wolf out of his body. And when those didn’t work, there were nights where he peered around his parent’s doorway and saw his mother crying. 

He had some memories of his own seizures. There had been two of them, about a week apart after an experimental potion. The first one hadn’t been long after his first dose, just a few hours before the full moon. He remembered seeing golden sparkles in the corner of one eye, then remembered nothing until about 4 pm the next day. The wolf had been as ill as he was that night, so at least there were no injuries. They stopped the potion immediately of course, and the trial was halted, but he’d still had another seizure as the last of the potion left his system. The seizures themselves hadn’t been that bad, Remus remembered, it was the aches and confusion afterwards that had been so terrible. 

He hoped to Merlin that Harry would remember none of this. Would never have memories of white hospital walls or pain. He prayed that this was an isolated event and there would never be pain or sickness in Harry’s life ever again. But deep in his gut he felt doubtful. No one had ever survived a curse like that, it shouldn’t even have been possible. The rebounded curse had destroyed the most powerful dark wizard in a generation, how could a tiny baby, barely a year old, be left unscathed? 

“Just through here,” Healer Dippet announced, giving the two men a comforting smile, beckoning them through a heavy wooden door marked “Paediatric Reception,” where a plump, friendly looking witch of about thirty, wearing the dark green robes and white apron of a nurse, her strawberry blonde hair was pinned up under a pretty white peaked cap. She put her quill down and stood, smiling at the three men,

“Good evening, Healer Dippet, having a good night shift?”

“Much as one ever can, thanks, Sam. These two are with the seizure case that just came in to Curse Damage, would you get them settled? I’ve got to report to Healer Ashford.” she looked sympathetically at Remus and Sirius, 

“Of course, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black is it? I’ve got everything ready for you, Healer Ashford sent the paperwork here straight away. How about you two have a seat while I get those ready?” she gestured to a set of squashy purple armchairs. Healer Dippet excused himself as Remus and Sirius sunk, exhausted into the chairs. 

“I’m Madame Greengrass by the way,” the nurse said, smiling as she gathered several rolls of parchment, quills and ink for the two men, “but you can call me Sam, short for Samantha.” Over her shoulder she added, “How’s a cup of tea sound? And I’ve got some lovely ginger knuts as well if you’re peckish.” Remus nodded mutely, but Sirius was silent.

The tea was hot and well sugared, and the information the various rolls of parchment requested was fairly basic, which was good, as neither man had much brain power left. 

“You finished with those?” Madame Greengrass asked as Remus set down his quill. He nodded slowly, a headache was starting and the lights had begun to hurt his eyes. He rubbed them tiredly, the orange candlelight flickering behind his eyelids. 

“You alright love?” Madame Greengrass’s voice was soft and comforting, Remus closed his eyes, but nodded, 

“Just a slight headache, I’m fine, really.”

“I could get you a headache potion, it’s no trouble.” Remus sighed, nodding again,

“Thanks, I could use one,” he said, giving her a slightly pained smile.

“No problem love, let me just take your paperwork and I’ll add it to Harry’s file, then get you that potion.” She took the roll of parchment and began to peruse it, clicking her tongue sympathetically a few times before banishing the parchment to a file on her desk. Going into a side room she came back with a small glass of steaming headache cure, and handed it to Remus, giving him a comforting half smile.

Sirius seemed stuck on one of the questions, Remus noticed tears in his partner’s eyes and had to stop himself from reaching out a hand. 

“Sirius?” 

“I never even asked Lily half this stuff,” he muttered, wiping his eye with a slightly inky thumb. “I don’t know any of these things,” he said pointing to a line which requested Lily’s familial medical history. 

“I know. All I know is her mum and dad died in a car accident before seventh year. And about her sister, but she wouldn’t be any help...” Lily and James had both lost their parents during the summer before sixth year, James to the war and Lily to a drunk driver. Both had come back to their last year traumatized and changed, James was quieter, drawn into himself but determined to fight, angry in a quiet and frightening way. Lily on the other hand had become rather more like Sirius; unpredictable, and angry. Trying to be Head Boy and Girl had pushed them together physically, while their shared trauma pushed them together emotionally. By the end of their time at Hogwarts the two were inseparable, engaged before they were 19, parents by the time they were twenty. It seemed impossible, Remus thought, that he was now in a world without Lily and James Potter in it.

Madame Greengrass drew up a chair sitting in front of the two men, solid and comforting.

“I’m sure this must be an incredible shock to the both of you.” she lowered her voice, “not to be presumptuous, but am I correct that the both of you are raising the lad  _ together _ ?” She put particular emphasis on the word,  _ together _ . Remus and Sirius looked at each other concernedly, then Remus nodded slowly, laying his hand gently on Sirius’s knee, and felt Sirius take his hand. 

“You will get through this. That little boy is incredibly lucky to have the both of you to love and care for him. Let that be a comfort to you. You’ve got each other, you’ve got this lovely little one who is depending on you, that’s what will see you through.” Sirius let out a tiny hiccuping sob, and for the first time since walking through that green door to see the body of his best friend, Sirius broke. Great, body wracking sobs shook his slender frame. Remus let his lover wrap himself around him, head on his shoulder, and soon he felt silent tears falling down his own cheeks. 

“Do you have anyone who will be helping you? Any family we can call?” Madame Greengrass asked gently. Sirius just shook his head against Remus’s shoulder. Remus thought of his dad in their little cottage out in Wales. They hadn’t spoken much since Remus had come out. It wasn’t as though his father had kicked him out or anything, not like Sirius’s family had. But over time, they’d just grown further apart. His father was a good man in his heart, but was he ready to help his son raise a child with another man? Remus didn’t know. Besides, the poor man was still mourning the death of Remus’s mother. And he was starting to get on in years, he wouldn’t want to have to help care for a toddler. Or maybe he would? Remus couldn’t be sure. In any case he certainly wasn’t going to floo his father in the middle of the night about it. And as for Sirius’s family, well...

“Mr. Black?” Her voice was soft and comforting. Sirius sniffed and shook his head,

“There’s no one,” he hiccuped softly.

“Aren’t you kin to Andromeda Tonks?” Sirius sat up, nodding and wiping his eyes. 

“Yeah, she’s my cousin... Haven’t seen her in years though.” 

“Did you know she works here? She’s a paediatrician.” Remus’s face perked up, he remembered Sirius mentioning his cousin Andromeda in passing around the time he was disowned. Apparently she had married a muggle-born named Ted Tonks and had been burned from the family tree just as Sirius had been when his family found out he was gay and in a relationship with a werewolf. Her sister Bellatrix had become Voldemort’s second in command, and her other sister, Narcissa, had married one of his higher ranking officers, the wealthy and influential Lucius Malfoy. 

“Is she here?” Remus asked, rather excitedly, “can we speak with her?” Madame Greengrass shook her head. 

“She’s at home right now, but she’ll be here tomorrow, I would suggest sending her an owl so you can meet with her in the morning. Having people to support you is incredibly important at a time like this.” She stood, fixing her apron,

“Now, let me get you that headache potion Mr. Lupin, and you two can try to get a few minutes rest while the Healers are finishing their tests.” Lupin nodded, squeezing Sirius’s hand gently.

“Thank you,” his voice was scratchy and tired from stress and lack of sleep. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting Sirius rest his head on his shoulder once again. 

“Here you go dear,” Healer Greengrass said gently, pressing a small glass of potion into Remus’s hand. He gulped it down gratefully and leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes.

“You two just try and rest, you’ll need your strength.” Remus sighed, relaxing further into the chair and letting sleep over take him. It was surprisingly easy.


End file.
